No Words
by Hanae da Firefly
Summary: The distance of 9 years could not be bridged by a few simple minutes. Even the hours that followed would never suffice. From the darkness, words of promise remain nothing but whispered lies. No words would ever be enough, not ever. Dark love. [CL, LC]
1. Chapter 1

**No Words**

Shadows loomed, veiling the corridor in darkness. It was quiet, cold; chilly air causing smooth stone pillars and dirty marble floor to cool down and freeze the light breeze that accompanied the low, whistling air streams. Tiny slivers of light from the cracks of doors streamed through, allowing images and silhouettes to be seen, but only vaguely.

A lithe, muscular figure leaned against a wall, his side pressed up against the cold marble and stone. A miniscule patch of light shone partially on his hair, causing an illusion of a halo bouncing across his dirty, golden tresses. His breathing was quiet, smooth and drawn out; seemingly oblivious to the taller man behind him.

There was an expression of shock that was reflected in those deep grey eyes, though his expression was trite and stoic, as it usually were. Only his lips were parted in disbelief, his breathing ragged and erratic. Long brown hair tumbled down, oily and slightly matted. A patch of light allowed a glimpse of the smooth scar that cut neatly between his eyebrows. His fists clenched and unclenched desperately, knuckles turning white beneath his black gloves.

No words were spoken.

The brunette continued to stare at the smaller figure, his eyes scanning up and down and squinting; raking in his appearance hungrily, as though the blonde would disappear in the blink of an eye.

The smaller man felt grey eyes hard on him, feeling a little uncomfortable at the scrutiny though his calm disposition betrayed none of his emotions. He trained himself long ago not to show any feelings that bubbled beneath his skin. It was a sign of weakness. On the battlefield – in_ life_ – any short moment of weakness was enough to render one helpless. Death. Death was sure to be immediate. No emotions. None whatsoever.

He knew that the older, more experienced man was even more so versed with such a rule. He had been training himself from even before the blonde.

The sheer impossibility of the situation was all that was making such incredulity radiate from those intoxicatingly grey eyes.

Something warm touched the blonde's arm, the heat seeping through his skin and spreading to the tips of his fingers. The fleeting touch withdrew momentarily, replaced by a strong, firm grip. Slender gloved fingers stroked the tan arm, taking in all the contours and scars of the sturdy muscles that had been built through the years. Nine years. Nine long years.

It seemed almost ridiculous.

Slowly – almost hesitantly – a strong arm swept past the smaller man's side and curled around his stomach, pressing his warm chest against the blonde's back; something cold and hard chinking together slightly as it became wedged between them, a sort of border that kept them from completely touching. The blonde's tattered and dirty cloak held something thick and hard beneath it, keeping the brunette even farther away then he would have wished for.

Gradually, his breath slowed down, becoming less laboured. The taller man buried his face into the nape of his neck, his eyes squeezing shut as images and memories ran through his mind. The past – everything that he had tried so hard to shut out and forget – it all came back to him in the blink of an eye.

Fury. Fury coursed through his veins at the sheer absurdity of it all. It wasn't fair. After hardening his heart and building up his impenetrable walls throughout the years, all of it crumbled at the sight of a chil- man – he was a man now – he had assumed dead for nine long years.

Surreal. It was all just. . . surreal.

His hand released the smaller man's arm, raising up to his chest and resting over his heart; the steady beating causing something warm to rise through his own chest and somehow knot the tangle of words in his throat. Words. There were no words that could be spoken. Nine years. Nothing came to mind as the ghostly image of a young, broken man wrapped in his embrace filled his line of sight. What little sight did he have. Only a vague silhouette of an undoubtedly handsome, well-defined man. Only an infinitesimal sliver of light that made the difference between complete darkness and a veil of shadows.

More. He wanted more.

His raised his hand higher, brushing across the blonde's vulnerable throat and resting his fingers loosely on his dry, chapped lips. The smaller man's hot breath dampened the material of his gloves, causing the brunette to press his fingers together and rub at the moisture.

A cool hand lightly gripped his own, pulling it away from his mouth as the other pried off his muscular arm from around his slim waist.

Light. Those touches were so light – ghostly – deceiving; as though he would diffuse into the chilly air in the blink of an eye.

Relentless, the dark-haired man gripped his arm yet again, this time with more force. He felt the young man tense very slightly before he lifted his head, dirty blonde hair shifting slightly, and allowed a glance back.

The brunette's finely-sculpted brows furrowed.

"Your eyes. . ." he finally managed in a low, baritone murmur, breaking the silence. "They glow."

A small, amused smirk flickered across the blonde's lips before disappearing, the smaller man turning his head forward and casting his gaze towards the dusty ground.

"You've grown," was the reply from an implausibly soft voice.

Slight amusement tinged his tone.

"I never thought you would really grow your hair out, Squall."

He felt the brunette flinch at the mention of his name.

"Leon," he corrected. "My name is Leon now."

The blonde raised his head slightly again, though his eyes were obscured by his overgrown bangs.

"Leon," he murmured, testing the name on his lips. It was strange – foreign – but something he would force himself to get used to. Leon. It was a fine enough name for a fine enough man.

He had indeed grown. Squall had been a small, willowy child – later, a tall, lanky teen – with finely shaped eyebrows and soft, feminine features. Those nine years apart caused great changes; he now had a sturdy frame, growing into his height and building up strong, well-chiselled muscles. His voice was deep and rich, unfamiliar but soothing to his ears. Leon was nothing like the older Squall he had protected from bullies all those years ago.

"Cloud. . ." he heard Leon whisper, pulling him back so that they would face one another.

Reluctantly, he allowed himself to turn, allowed his appearance to be scrutinised once again under those sharp grey eyes.

Cloud had grown, though Leon had grown even more so, but Cloud had grown into. . . something more. Ethereal. Under all the dirt and grime that marred his complexion and soiled his hair – even through the veil of darkness – it was painfully obvious. Cloud possessed beauty. Something otherworldly. It was hard to describe, but his scrawny frame had gained more muscle and his features were somehow softened and tender; as though his energy had been exhausted throughout the years. He seemed only somewhat haggard, but held himself with a cool, dignified air.

And his eyes. . .

A gloved hand rose to stroke his cheek, gripping the side of Cloud's head gently in his hand.

Something flashed softly in what little light there was. Leon lowered his hold, rubbing the earring that was clasped to Cloud's left ear between his fingers.

Cloud allowed a small, brief smile.

"I didn't go back on that dare."

So many things were threatening to burst within Leon. Things long hidden and pushed away; so many emotions and feelings swirled inside him and wanted out. He wanted to laugh and cry and scream and shout and smile and _hurt_ and embrace, all at the same time.

All because of the sight of this man, thought to have been dead for nine long years.

"Cloud," Leon whispered again, drawing his face close so that their foreheads touched. Their breath caressed each others' skin, warmth prickling through their veins as heat rushed from wherever there was bare contact against skin, to the rest of their bodies. "Where. . .?"

"The darkness. I have been in the darkness for. . . so many years. My eyes, my body; they adjusted to it."

It was a simple explanation that hid so many complex meanings hidden and tangled in intricate webs of secrets; lines and flimsy threads crossing one another and holding up a delicate façade.

He hated it.

Leon wanted to scoff. A liar, hating another for his lies. What a hypocrite.

They stood there, eyes boring into one another's, each waiting for the other to speak.

Hours. What seemed like hours passed in silence, broken only by the low whistling of the air streams and their drawn-out breathing. Cloud looked at the man, his eyes burning with something unreadable. Leon could only gaze in return, feeling himself getting sucked into those hypnotically outlandish eyes.

No words were spoken.

None _could_ be spoken, not when there was a gap of nine painfully long years that had bridged two men so far apart that they could not take in the changes without feeling themselves get pulled into the time lost between them with a mix of emotions.

A hoarse voice echoed through the cold corridor, causing both men to blink and break the spell.

". . . Your turn is up! Get ready for the next fight. . ."

Slowly, Cloud leaned in, his eyes gazing deeply into Leon's; their faces so close that their noses touched.

"I need to go now," he said in his soft voice, pushing the older man away gently and turning on his heel. He paused mid-step, allowing his head to turn back a little to catch a glimpse of the man a final time. He nodded to Leon before walking away into the darker shadows; to the coliseum.

Leon wanted to run after him, grasp his wrist and pull him back. Was a distance of nine years to bridged by only a short few minutes? It wasn't fair. He wanted to hold the man, to take in his appearance and drink his musky scent, to stare into those eyes and learn about all that had happened to him and to be able to say all that he wanted to say and. . . just _hold _him and promise to take care of him as Cloud did for Squall so long ago, when they were still foolish children.

There were no words. None at all.

* * *

"Move."

A command, not a request.

But he was not one to command him, not anymore.

Cloud's blue eyes hardened, his frown deepening at the stubbornness of the taller man, unwilling to let him pass.

"I don't like repeating myself."

Cloud's eyes flashed dangerously, and Leon felt only somewhat intimidated; the strength that the younger man wielded in the past still dominating his own in the present. It was foolish – he _felt_ foolish – but he would not let Cloud inch another step to the arena.

Not when his entire side was bleeding.

He didn't know when he had found the ability to stand up against the blonde – he had never been able to resist Cloud's every whim in the past – but he was silently grateful for the backbone that he grew in those nine years apart. Forcefully, Leon gripped his arm and pulled him away, the blonde struggling and twisting away with every step. Cloud grunted as he did so, not really angry, but more so irritated with the brunette's obstinacy.

After a while, he felt those slender fingers digging into his arm through the black fabric, and, as though averse to having bruises on his arms later on, he found that he had fallen into step behind Leon, the taller man now only leading them as their footsteps echoed lightly in the dark stone corridors. Leon's grip had loosened, slipping from Cloud's forearm to his wrist, and then sliding lower so that their index fingers were interlinked.

Silence.

Still, nothing could be said.

Cloud's breathing was erratic, his lids drooping low and his long, blonde lashes hooding his glowing blue eyes. Slouched over slightly, he kept himself from gripping his side; from applying pressure on a wound that was so evidently painful. A large gash where he had been so carelessly attacked. Stupidity. Foolishness. All because he spent a brief moment switching his gaze – surprised – from his opponent to the brunette who had suddenly made an appearance at the arena.

Truth be told, Leon hadn't wanted to step out of the shadows at all. Anger, and guilt, and. . . so many _emotions_ had been prompted after those short, few minutes with Cloud. He hated himself for being so weak; for being so goddamn inadequate when it came to the blonde man. Always; never once or twice, but _always_. He had spent _so long_ trying to bury his feelings and detach his heart from himself, but _Cloud_. . . _Cloud_ had. . .

It had been idiocy on his part for thinking such a thing. He had beaten himself about it mentally, before rebuilding his resolve and determinedly stepping out into the arena to see the blonde in all his glory. Fighting; what Cloud did best. Constantly focused on the opponent, adrenaline rushing through his veins and blocking out everything else. The pure rush of battle as he swung that manically huge sword about, parrying futile blows of the feeble challenger and hitting back with triple the strength.

Fighting; what Cloud did best.

So why had he gotten so distracted when Leon appeared?

Determined to puzzle about it later, he carefully tucked that sentiment to a side and continued on with his venture through the blanket of shadows veiling the dusty passages that twisted and turned throughout the coliseum. Cloud followed obediently, silently, his breath hitching every now and then. It gave Leon a flicker of pleasure to be able to exercise some form of dominance over the blonde; being the follower in the past and never the followed.

When he thought about it, he did find it strikingly peculiar that he had constantly tagged behind a boy three years his junior. It had been hard to tell then; Cloud was an exuberant, agile, budding boy who somehow always became the centre of attraction. What was Squall but a child, too small for his age and too feminine in looks for acceptance among the other boys?

He had felt often undermined whenever the others spoke in hushed tones about a 16 year old easily trailing a 13 year old, but. . . he found himself never caring because it had been _Cloud_. And Cloud was always honest and earnest in whatever he did; and so he was always sincere when it came to Squall.

This new man that greeted him. . . he was Cloud, but, at the same time, he _wasn't_.

Gone were the sweet innocence and the childish spunk he possessed. But this was Cloud. Someone he had grown up so adoringly with. But at the same time. . . this was a stranger; so different in so many indescribable ways. Everything. . . changed. But, not really; no. There was something most unmistakably Cloud about him. . . not just the features – though the features have changed drastically – but. . . something that he could not quite put a finger on.

A gentle jerk from the blonde made him halt in his tracks, pulling away abruptly from his thoughts.

Leon turned around to look at him, Cloud's eyes regarding him with a kept look. He was quiet, as this new Cloud usually was, and merely eyed the taller man with expectance.

Wordlessly, Leon nodded; for what, he never did know – reassurance, perhaps – and lead the younger man to a room a few doors down, out of the darkness.

The torches emitted a dim, wispy light as flames licked the air and dissipated in the next instant. The room shone with a gloomy, orange glow; Leon's other belongings thrown neatly onto the bed and chairs that had been provided.

He led Cloud inside, shutting the door tritely behind him, and made the blonde sit on the bed. He shoved a few of things off onto the floor – quite uncharacteristically – and reached in his bag for a pouch with first aid and potions in it. He took a few things out – bandages, cotton, gauze, ointment – and set it out in front of him. Leon gently fingered Cloud's wound, earning a slight wince from him before he removed his gloves and began to reach for the clasp of the smaller man's mantle.

Immediately Cloud stiffened, the hand with the claw gripping Leon's arm and forcing it away. Noticing the pained hiss from the brunette, he withdrew his hand apologetically, quickly removing the accessory.

Leon eyed him as he cradled his bleeding arm, the blonde distractedly lowering his head; hiding, it almost seemed, from the brunette's accusing look.

"Wash up," ordered Leon after a moment of silence, giving the washroom a pointed look.

Something – so many things – flashed through Cloud's eyes, as if he were torn; torn between obediently following the command and defiantly staying put. Without bothering to watch the internal battle rage on in those clear, blue eyes any further – he might suddenly sprout an ounce of pity – Leon took him roughly by the shoulders and wheeled him towards the lavatory entrance.

Cloud paused at the door, hesitant. He turned around, looking Leon straight in the eye, his cool mask slipping for the first time. Fear. It was so strange, but that's what Leon saw reflected in Cloud's beautiful blue eyes.

_Fear_.

Gingerly, he cupped the blonde's chin and gazed reassuringly into those eyes. He felt Cloud tense at his warm touch – their first real contact – but he gradually relaxed, exhaling slowly. From where he stood, Leon could tell that the blonde was regaining his composure and reorganising his thoughts.

How vulnerable.

It was strange – was this really, _really_ Cloud?

_This_ was the Cloud that brought out so many forgotten feelings and memories?

Leon's eyes fluttered closed in acquiescence as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Cloud's chapped ones, causing the blonde to stiffen once again. He stood there, unresponsive as Leon's wet tongue licked and pushed insistently against his mouth before Cloud suddenly made a move and roughly shoved the brunette away.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes narrowed into a disgusted glare as it homed in on the taller man. Leon stood there, unfazed. His own look held some sort of expectance; as though waiting for the blonde to make some sort of move. Somehow unable to look the man in the eye anymore, Cloud lowered his gaze before muttering something incorrigible and trudging into the washroom.

Leon returned to the bed, sitting down and leaning against the cold stone wall. He raised his gaze to the ceiling, sighing frustratedly as a hand raked his hair back.

Stupidity and brashness. Very, very smooth, Leon.

Everything was spinning around inside him at such a dizzying rate. He squeezed his eyes shut and regulated his breathing in an attempt to clear his head and recollect his thoughts.

What in the world was happening to him?

In the short span of a few hours, everything Leon strove to retain was cracking at the edges. His mask and his solid walls were all giving way into those unwanted feelings. Useless emotions. Nothing that he wanted. Nothing that he deserved to have. It had been shut away so long ago, why did it have to resurface now? Unwelcome and pathetic. He was steadily losing Cloud – someone important that had taken him nine long years to trace – as a trusted confidante with his unprecedented actions.

He was weak. Weak and useless. He had to grow stronger; strong enough to protect those he was fallibly struggling to save. Squall was weak; Squall was a failure. So many foolish things had he done in the past – a weak fool.

Leon gladly pushed away that train of thought as he heard water sloshing around from beyond the door. There were no showers in the coliseum; only baths. Someone stood, climbing out of the bath as lapping water swept noisily across the cold stone. There was movement; footsteps stepping lightly around and the rustling of some cloth. A slight kick as metal clanged against metal. The knob jiggled a bit.

And then a hesitant pause.

An awkward silence lingered before Leon resolved to overcome all this absurdity, feeling inexplicably tired. He stood briskly and strode to the door, opening it in a fluid motion.

Grey eyes stared.

Leon could feel the blonde defiantly returning the gaze; his glowing blue eyes hard and challenging.

A wing. . . a single, obsidian wing devilishly stretched behind his tan body; taut and firm. It loomed over him like a shadow hung from light. It suddenly struck Leon that Cloud, with his otherworldly beauty, stood before him like an angel that was dragged to the deepest pits of hell and forced with wings of a demon. Or wing, in this case.

He said nothing, continuing to stare.

Leon's eyes raked downwards, following the ridges and spindly points of his wing that led down to Cloud's semi naked body, a drenched towel wrapped loosely around his waist. He had finally washed himself of all the muck and filth that had coated his body; his hair no longer matted and muddy – back to its original golden lustre. His skin had been scrubbed clean, scars and bruises littered across his arms and stomach.

And then he saw the wound cutting painfully deep into Cloud's side.

He took the blonde man by the wrist, startling him, and pulled him to the bed, forcing him to sit as he pushed a tanned arm away and began to disinfect the wound.

It was Cloud's turn to stare.

That was _it_.

No questions, no accusations, no fear. Not even a crude remark. Not even a second glance. No hatred, no disgust, no repugnance. Indifference. A cool, cool mask of indifference. No animosity, no acrimony, no bitterness. Not even amusement. No jibing, no chiding, no repartee.

No words.

No words from this Leon who once had a sharp tongue in their youth.

And so, taking advantage of Cloud's befuddled state, Leon set to work, gently cleaning the gash and wrapping it with sterile, white bandages tenderly. Cloud was visibly surprised at the mildness of his touch, his breath hitching only now and then when Leon pressed a little too hard into the wound. Often when this happened, the brunette would brush his fingers lightly against it, as if in apology.

Kindness. So much kindness.

It was filling Cloud with despair.

He didn't want this. . . this. . . benevolence. After going for so long without another person's touch, and to suddenly be handled so carefully, as though he were glass. . . it was causing all the aches and pains to prickle at his skin. Cloud was angry, despite himself. Something had to be sought in exchange for such gentleness; and he was not one to be toyed with. But even then, the blonde felt himself unconsciously lean into Leon's touch – relishing the warmth of another person – trying to take in and embed into mind all the different sensations and feelings of another's skin on his own.

Cloud didn't want _pity_. Ever more so from this strange Leon.

. . . but he was slowly getting addicted to the man's intoxicating touch.

Dazed – confused to a degree – Cloud gripped both of Leon's hands, forcing the man to look at him straight in the eye.

For the first time, he noticed all the emotions swirling in those stormy grey eyes – this time reflecting surprise.

In the next instant, Cloud lips were crushing Leon's; his hot tongue sliding in when the brunette opened his mouth to speak. Overwhelmed, Leon froze as Cloud probed his mouth forcefully, ravenously biting and pulling at his lower lip until the brunette felt a sharp pain and tasted the metallic tang of blood on his tongue. Cloud licked at Leon's lips before pressing on again – this time even harder and more desperately than before.

Leon had regained his composure somewhat, pulling his hands out of the blonde's vice grip and sliding his fingers into soft, wet hair as the other stroked the base of his wing, causing it to quiver slightly, making the blonde moan softly. Cloud gripped the front of Leon's shirt in a tight fist as his left was down by the brunette's side on the bed, holding them up. Their tongues battled for dominance, the pace growing more frantic as Cloud straddled Leon and began to grind his groin against the other man's, causing Leon to groan and – temporarily – submit to the blonde.

A violent shudder passed through the older man's body – the pounding of his heart drowned out only by the gasping and moans – as all sorts of pleasurable and sinful sensations rose rapidly in his chest; feeling his body heat up as the friction between them increased. He pushed back against Cloud, hands straying searchingly – needy – for more of the man – his skin, and his muscles, and his cheeks, and his hair, and his fingers, and his stomach. . .

Cloud pressed harder still, kissing Leon hard enough to bruise his lips; wet noises and low moans sounding as they rubbed their bodies together; the cold metal of Leon's chain against Cloud's hot skin making the blonde shiver slightly.

Abruptly, they broke apart; Leon panting violently for air as his lungs burned, but Cloud was on him again after the first draw of breath. The heat reaching a delirious height. Leon felt deft hands pulling at his clothes, tugging at his belts. Cloud pulled away for a moment to growl as his eyes narrowed at the offending article of clothing but resumed the kiss, pushing harder and causing them to fall over onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.

Leon knew that this was wrong – so wrong – in more ways that he could count, but the amazing fire that sparked and spread through him whenever they touched or kissed made him feverish to near hysteria. Pleasure couldn't have possibly felt that _good_. It made him hungry for _more_. This wasn't just lust; it was pent up emotions and memories and _needs_ that had been suppressed for too long. _Nine long years_. . .

How long had it been since someone – anyone – touched him like that?

Cloud moaned into the kiss as the brunette reached under the soaked towel and squeezed his very aroused erection, stroking across its length with sweaty fingers.

Circumstances would be reviewed and judged once he could actually _think_; Leon, for the very first time, uncaring of the results of such obviously rash actions.

Cloud somehow managed to push the dark jacket off, his other hand in Leon's shaggy brown hair; all without breaking the kiss. Leon pulled away, busy fumbling with his belts – cursing their complexity – and successfully managing to undo his pants before letting out an unearthly gasp, heat and jolts of electricity searing through his body as he felt everything inside him _implode_.

His sweat drenched shirt had been pushed up, Cloud rubbing at a nipple whilst his other hand dug into his side. The blonde withdrew momentarily, giving both men time to breathe, straightening his back and throwing his head back in a languid manner as his eyes fluttered closed – almost savouring the pleasure. A soft, pink tongue began sliding down Leon's throat and licked along his collarbone before going lower and tracing the contours of his firm chest. Leon shivered involuntarily, his hands limp for a moment as he moaned. Cloud lapped at a hardened nipple, nipping at it before biting down. Leon gasped louder, the pleasure washing over the pain and aggression as Cloud began planting deceitfully light kisses down his tense abdomen – their bodies covered in a sheen of sweat, room unbearably dark and humid.

Leon pushed the blonde away, sitting up slightly and pulling off his shirt in a smooth movement; Griever tangling up, though he didn't care to notice. Cloud, meanwhile, yanked Leon's pants off; followed shortly after by his damp boxers as his own towel slipped to the floor.

They paused, eyes locked, both men unmoving. The room threatened to plunge into pure darkness as the wispy flames died down slightly; oil in the torches diminishing. The strong and pungent smell of grease and sand hung in the air.

Breathing. Deep, ragged breathing. Unblinking eyes. A flash of challenge.

A flicker of loneliness.

The desperation ebbing away, Cloud crawled towards Leon in an almost predatory manner; though his expression had softened considerably and his warm lips were parted; breath hot and drawn out. Leon only gazed back, the hammering of his heart slowing down as he shifted and pushed Cloud into the corner, wedging him between the headboard and a wall. The blonde looked on, relaxing into the smooth, cold stone as he felt blankets pulled away from under him.

Leon positioned himself between the blonde and fingered his throbbing erection, licking along the underside and squeezing at the base. Cloud's breath hitched, gripping the thin sheets hard. Leon clamped his mouth around the tip, sucking softly at the pre-cum before curling his tongue around the head and taking more of the heat into his mouth. Cloud groaned, his body shuddering in anticipation.

Slowly, Leon began to bob his head up and down, lips deliciously tight over Cloud's gathered heat. Fingers threaded into limp, brown hair, Cloud bucked slightly when the brunette swallowed. Humming in gratification, Leon closed his eyes as he picked up the pace and sucked harder. Cloud writhed uncontrollably, causing the brunette to pull back a moment in order to steady the smaller man before he dove back in.

Leon held Cloud's slender hips down firmly, allowing his tongue to trail downwards as hot saliva dribbled and smeared along his entire length. Cloud groaned, throwing his head back and letting out a choked gasp when the brunette resumed his pace; going even faster, a little teeth scraping along his gathered heat. He held Cloud's legs apart, quickly speeding up as his angle of incursion improved.

There was a loud gasp, voice caught in his throat. Cloud became limp as his body shuddered violently; hips thrusting as hot, white cum spurted into Leon's mouth. He collapsed in heap, his inner thigh an angry shade of red where the brunette's fingers had dug in.

Leon licked his lips, droplets of white dribbling down to his chin. His brown lashes were drooping low, grey eyes regarding the blonde with a hazy look. He pulled Cloud towards him, arms gently avoiding the loosening bandages, and gripped the back of his head. Slowly, he ran his tongue along the man's neck upwards – spreading a bit of leftover cum over his susceptible throat – pausing before pressing ahead into Cloud's hot mouth.

Leon let out a sigh unconsciously, pressing his open mouth firmly against the blonde's as his tongue ran across Cloud's. He pushed insistently, the strangely saccharine taste that was Cloud's shared and lingering between them. Leon's eyes fluttered closed. Something warm was spreading throughout his body – nothing like the wild fire that Cloud had sparked when they touched – but something sweet and fluid that soaked deep into his skin; gentle and delicate.

It was a. . . _wonderful_ feeling.

He had never felt anything of the sort before – not really – and was determined on feeling more of it. Unsure of what to do, he surprised himself slightly when he toned down the intensity of the kiss, tenderly moulding Cloud's lips in his own as he sucked them softly. The strange warmth extended to the very tips of his fingers, the minute drawing out in sweet bliss. For a moment, it seemed as though the blonde had responded, as if he had been pressing back; but Leon couldn't be sure as Cloud broke away and pushed the brunette down onto the hard mattress.

Those blue, molten eyes were sheltering a harrowing mix of feelings. Leon allowed an expression of concern to cross his features as he attempted to sit up, attempting to prop himself up on his elbows.

At that, Cloud's eyes immediately hardened; sealing off whatever emotion that had been mirrored. He laid a hand on Leon's chest, pushing him back down.

Nudging Leon's legs apart with his knees, Cloud dipped low, tongue running down Leon's pelvic bone. A sweaty palm was stroking his inner thigh almost coaxingly, as though reassuring him of something. Of what, Leon didn't care to know. He stiffened as fingers slicked with something cool probed at his entrance, sending painful daggers throughout his body.

There was a slight burning feeling, though the ache dulled as something strange and chilly drowned out the sensations. After inserting finger after finger, Cloud spread them about a bit, earning a throaty groan from Leon.

Cloud looked up, staring into Leon's eyes. His expression was glassy – unreadable – red marring his tan skin lower than the brunette could have ever guessed. Leon refused to blink, ignoring the perspiration that was rolling down his forehead steadily and clinging to his lashes. Something about Cloud's eyes. . . they just. . . .they were reflecting something so _honest_ and _untainted_; he couldn't bear to tear his gaze away from the blonde.

Cloud exhaled through his teeth, aiming carefully as he rubbed the remnants of the cool liquid on himself.

Leon gasped, chest unbearably tight as Cloud plunged into him. It felt strange and – oddly enough – was not as painful as he had initially imagined it would be. Rather, the cool lubricant Cloud had used was filtering out the pain until all that was left was sheer pleasure.

He felt his entire body tremble, heat clouding his head and making everything spin. Cloud pulled out, leaving only the head inside, causing something within Leon to shiver covetously. Cloud rammed in – harder this time – moaning in a smooth tone as he started a frenzied rhythm. He rocked his hips faster, causing Leon's bundle of nerves to fray as he lost all self-restraint. Faster and deeper, Cloud pierced something in the brunette that released all sorts of hot and burning sensations, causing his toes to curl into the damp sheets.

Leon groaned, breath hitching as Cloud's fingers dug painfully into his hips. Their breath was ragged, broken only by their intermittent moans and the sound of Cloud's thighs slapping against Leon's. The brunette writhed slightly as heat rushed through his arteries, clouding his vision with lust and pleasure. . . and something _else_.

Cloud hit that amazing spot over and over, euphoria coursing through them with unrestrained sensations like liquid fire; harsh gasps coming from both men as Cloud drove in harder still. There was a sharp intake of breath as Cloud threw his head back, reaching his peak a second time. He spilled into Leon without stopping, hips still rolling, trying to draw out and recapture the orgasm. Cloud buried his face into his shoulder briefly, earning a startled cry from the brunette as his teeth sank into his throat. Face deeply flushed and wing quivering, Cloud kept going, picking up the speed and intensity until Leon let out a shout.

"_FUCK_!"

For a moment of pure bliss, all thoughts flooded free of his mind. Body noticeably shaking with convulsions and small judders, Leon barely noticed it when Cloud pulled out and collapsed on him, his own cum coating the blonde's stomach and smearing between them.

They remained in that position momentarily, catching their breath. Leon felt that same warmth ripple through him as he felt Cloud's hot, wet skin on his own; the smaller man's breath damp and low in his ear. Regaining his wits a little, Leon rolled them over so that their positions were switched. Both were thoroughly satisfied, though the smaller man seemed only partially sated. He noticed the look of enquiry on Cloud's face, merely responding by rubbing the corner of the blonde's mouth reassuringly with his thumb, breath still shaky.

He pulled Cloud's hips up, arching the blonde's back sharply. Blue eyes narrowed, curious and slightly confused at the strange position. His legs bent, knees drooping low so that they nearly touched the blonde man's tan chest. Leon raised himself onto his knees, probing Cloud's entrance with cum-coated fingers.

The blonde groaned, body shuddering as the brunette dipped low and gave his arousing erection a slow lick. He tensed as Leon inserted a fourth finger, breath hopelessly ragged and body still wracked with small tremors. Cloud let out a small whimper when Leon pulled his fingers out, moving his arms to the back of his head and grabbing onto the thin sheets to keep himself balanced.

Leon aimed carefully before driving in with a sharp thrust downwards. He moaned at the sheer heat that engulfed him – Cloud was so deliciously hot and tight – body trembling uncontrollably as the blonde gasped with a mixture of pain and pleasure. This strange position was both exquisite and electrifying; Leon steadying his breath as he pulled out and rammed back in – this time with more care – as Cloud gasped and squirmed. Afraid that he was hurting the blonde, he stopped for a moment, but was met by fervent pushes from the man.

Smirking softly, Leon repositioned himself and started a rapid rhythm; ignoring the dull numbness in his knees as he plunged deeper and deeper into Cloud. The sounds that the smaller man was making was simply entrancing; it seemed almost obvious that he was enjoying having sex upside-down – his _very first time_ doing it in such a position. Leon's smirk widened, noticing the blonde bleed very slightly. He felt a delighted buzzing inside him at the knowledge that he was Cloud's first, relishing the friction between them as he released his grip on the blonde's thigh and wrapped his wet fingers around Cloud as a reward. His hand a tight fist, he moved it up and down the blonde furiously, the smaller man eliciting a breathy moan and sharp groans as the brunette increased his pace in both the thrusting as well as the pumping.

Cloud gasped and clawed at the sweat soaked sheets beneath him, his tan body flushing redder and redder with each passing moment. The heat had been unbearably intense, his eyes unable to stay open. Leon felt a little limp – his energy drained as he continued rocking his hips downwards – his body leaning forward and closing the distance between them somewhat.

Cloud's breath hitched, the friction suddenly becoming gentle and drawn-out and sweet. The pleasure was still there – Lord yes, it was – but. . . Cloud forced his eyes open, gazing at the brunette as tears began to gather at their eyes and mingling with sweat from the sheer rawness of intense sex.

Leon noticed, and he allowed a small smile to curl at his lips with a final thrust; cum spurting rapidly into Cloud's body as the blonde slammed into orgasm almost immediately after.

With a sharp gasp, Leon pulled out and collapsed in a tangle of limbs on top of Cloud, his body still plagued with numbing ecstasy. He pulled himself up shakily; planting breathy kisses along the blonde's throat as he somehow he managed to draw the blanket off the dusty floor.

He threw it over them so that it barely covered the two, sticky men. Pulling the blonde into a protective embrace, he pressed a final kiss to his temple before drifting to sleep.

By the time his eyes fluttered open, Leon only barely noticed the absence of clothes and the presence of Cloud, wrapped firmly in his arms. As his groggy eyes took in the white substance plentifully clinging between them and the bandages that barely clung to the blonde's bare body, images and memories of the night before flooded him; a small smile gracing his features as he leaned down to press a wet kiss on Cloud's forehead.

The blonde merely murmured sleepily in response, squirming under the blanket.

Bemused, Leon pushed himself carefully off the bed and gingerly wrapped the thin blanket around Cloud's small frame. He picked his clothes off the ground, noticing the dried blood and small bruises on his arm. Feeling very sore, he trudged uncomfortably to the bathroom and soaked himself in the warm water.

Leon closed his eyes, relishing the warmth that coursed through his body whenever he thought about the event that occurred only hours before. He ducked under the water's surface, rubbing out the hardened cum that had dried and knotted up his tangled brown locks. He leaned his aching back against the wall of the bath, reaching over and washing himself in silence; water occasionally sloshing across the floor.

His mind wandered to old recollections that he thought had been buried away or burned years ago.

There was a young Cloud – boisterous and enthusiastic – running through the fields, pelting rocks at a handful of regrettably bigger and taller boys who had been surrounding a small, fair brunette. There was shouting – though Squall hadn't really paid attention to what had been shouted – but he only felt a familiar wave of comfort and relief wash through his body when he caught a glimpse of a familiar mop of spiky golden hair and furious green eyes.

As the last of the bigger boys ran off, Squall had picked himself up off the ground, rubbing at the bruises on his arms and wiping away a trail of blood by his lips. Cloud returned rather huffily, muttering something about being unable to beat the crap out of them before he noted the scratches and light swelling on his friend's pale skin.

Cloud jutted out his lower lip – something of a mix between a pout and a frown – as he wordlessly pulled Squall by the hand and dragged him off in a different direction. Squall had only silently followed, realizing that they were going in the direction of the river by the stone bridge and apple tree.

Squall had never really liked water. He _hated_ baths, and absolutely refused to go swimming. Cloud, on the other hand, was like a little water baby. Fishing, swimming, polo; he was crazy about water. It had been a little hard on Squall when he was constantly dragged to the river or lake to waste some time with the younger blonde, but he found himself uncaring as days passed.

The brunette sat on a rock by the water's edge, scooping up water in the palm of his hand and washing away the injuries and blood. Cloud was knee-deep in the river, his jeans rolled up to reveal scrawny legs. His oversized singlet drooped to a side, revealing a willowy frame and a creamy shoulder. The blonde remained there, eyeing Squall in silence as a few fish swam past his legs, with the current.

"Hey," a young, boyish voice asked after a moment. "You're turning 11 soon, right? Do you want anything?"

Squall looked up into those big green eyes as Cloud began to tread carefully to his side. He shrugged as the blonde flopped beside him, kicking the ripples in the water a little and causing a splash.

"It's nothing special. It's just a birthday."

Cloud puffed his cheeks in response, kicking at the water again.

"You're lucky. Being 7 years old is no fun," he complained, leaning back slightly. Squall snorted softly, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm fine. I've got you, don't I?"

Cloud brightened, an infectious grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. He giggled, nodding in response. Immediately, his lips twisted into a frown.

"If I had been any quicker, I'd have mashed those poop-heads into pulp."

Squall's expression softened a little.

"You hit that idiot in the nose with a rock, though."

Cloud snickered mischievously, pulling his pant legs a little higher as they slipped lower over his knees.

"Thanks."

Cloud paused, looking up at the older boy thoughtfully.

"Don't feel bad, Squall. It's not _your_ fault you look prettier than the other boys," he stated in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. "I bet they'll get really jealous of you when we're older, 'cause you'll be getting all their girlfriends!"

Squall snorted again.

"Aren't you at the age where 'cooties' dominate your every course of action?"

"Hey!" Cloud countered playfully, giving him a very light punch in the stomach, his grin widening on his lips. Squall allowed a very small smile to slip out as he blocked the 'attack' half-heartedly, earning a lofty giggle from the younger boy. Feigning defeat, Squall turned slightly and lowered his head onto Cloud's lap.

Cloud shifted slightly so both would be comfortable.

They remained in a companionable silence, the gentle lapping of the water and their breathing being all that sounded. Occasionally, Cloud would pick up some rocks and threw them into the water. If he was feeling uncomfortable, he didn't show it. Maybe the brunette had been doing it for too long a time for him to be uncomfortable.

Squall rather liked Cloud's lap. It was warm and snug; a clear contrast of the otherwise scrawny young boy with a strange ounce of strength hidden away underneath his scraggy frame. In the beginning, Squall had felt very undermined at being teased by the older boys for hanging around Cloud; felt underestimated for being constantly rescued by a boy 3 years his junior.

Squall glanced up, noting the bright smile on Cloud's face as he nodded in acknowledgement.

Maybe he just lost the will to care.

"Hmm, hey, Squall," the boy said after a while. The brunette looked up, prying a sleepy eye open.

"What is it?"

"Have you ever, y'know," Cloud paused, his head tilting to the side as he peered at the older boy. "Can I kiss you?" he blurted out.

Squall's eyes both snapped open.

The brunette scrambled up, Cloud leaning back so that he wouldn't get hit in the nose.

"Why," he began in a controlled voice, "do you ask?"

Cloud shrugged easily.

"I saw the other boys talking about it the other day, and they were making this huge fuss over it. I wanted to see for myself, but they say that if you do it with a girl, it becomes all different. But we're both guys, so it's okay, right?"

Squall just stared at him blankly.

Cloud gave him an insistent, pointed look.

"Um, I dunno," he stammered hesitantly, grey eyes averting in reluctance.

He paused, looking into Cloud's disappointed green eyes.

Squall felt his resolve crumble instantly.

"Okay," he sighed, defeated. Cloud perked up, folding his soaked legs in and setting himself in front of Squall with a determined expression on his face. The brunette rolled his eyes, sighing once more as anxiety set in. They stared at each other for a short moment, Squall sure that he would die from embarrassment.

And then Cloud leaned in and pressed his pliant lips against Squall's.

Truth be told, he had been taken aback at Cloud's spontaneity. He wasn't quite prepared mentally.

It was very soft and tender, and Squall sighed in resignation as he allowed his eyes to flutter closed; just as Cloud's had. It just seemed like the right thing to do at that time. There was nothing too special about it– apart from it being his, _their_ first – and he wondered vaguely if kisses made your lips tingle pleasantly.

When Cloud pulled away, Squall found himself questioning the thoughtful expression on the younger boy's face.

"Hmm, I don't really see what they mean. My face feels all hot, though," he said sheepishly.

Squall nodded dumbly, murmuring something incorrigible before he dropped back onto Cloud's lap and dozed off.

Leon found that a faint smile had found its way to his lips, and that he had somehow made his way out of the bath and was pulling a towel over his waist.

What had provoked all of this? There was nothing at all that connected such a far-flung memory to. . . the present situation.

He shook his head slightly, causing beads of water to fly about as his wet hair stuck to his face and neck. Decidedly refusing to think anymore, he stepped out of the bathroom and squinted through the dimness, involuntarily letting his gaze rest on the blonde man.

Hesitant momentarily, Leon quickly started towards his belongings and began to dress himself; trying to ignore the distinct smell that hung in the air, mixing with the sand and oil.

As Leon pulled his shirt over his damp figure, he heard Cloud stirring. The brunette turned briefly to glance at the younger man who was attempting to sit up. A grunt of pain escaped him, his blue eyes narrowed to a degree. Cloud looked up, noticing the brunette.

Leon flashed him a small smile.

Eyes widening slightly, Cloud lowered his gaze before roughly pushing himself off the bed. He pulled the towel out of Leon's grip, shutting the bathroom door tritely behind him.

Shrugging to himself, Leon continued to clothe himself, pulling on his pants before eyeing the buckles and belts that littered the ground. He went to the bed and picked up an open bottle of potion, pouring some of the liquid into his hand and wiping it across the wounds Cloud had inflicted with his claws. With a cooling sensation, he felt the tears close up and the blood dissipate.

He spent the rest of his time cleaning up and putting things back where they belonged. Leon had rolled up the bandages, suddenly recalling that Cloud's had come off last night, and set it aside along with the potion. He picked up the blanket and attempted to get some of the cum out, but eventually just folded it with a resigned sigh.

As he did so, Leon didn't fail to notice the sloshing of water and the rustling of clothes that came from inside the bathroom. The door opened with a slight squeak, and Cloud stepped out only partially dressed. His pants had been thrown on haphazardly, his shirt and mantle pooling at his elbow in his grip.

True enough, the bandages had been cast off – no doubt soaked with water from the bath. Cloud walked lightly to the bed, throwing his things on it before he began to put his clothes on.

Pausing at the blonde's nonchalance, Leon found himself gripping Cloud's elbow and pulling him closer. The blonde eyed him, only somewhat startled by his actions. His blonde brows were knitted together, lips parted slightly into something unlike a frown, though dissimilar to a smile.

Gently, Leon gripped the sides of his head in both hands and leaned in for a deep and meaningfully tender kiss.

Cloud had tensed, freezing up as Leon delved his mouth with a hot, wet tongue. It was a sincere show of emotion, Cloud's heart doing a small flip before he recognized the familiar feeling that had been kept away for so long. Leon pressed deeper, the kiss still sweet and tender. The brunette tilted his head at a slight angle, running his tongue along Cloud's. His slender fingers raked through the blonde's wet hair, sighing softly; clear signs of affection.

Cloud felt his heart shrink.

Roughly, the blonde pushed Leon away. Still panting slightly from the kiss, he quickly grabbed his things before sprinting out the room and slamming the door behind him. He leaned against it, heart hammering violently in his chest and his head threatening to split open.

_No_.

Something burned behind his eyes. Cloud slid to the floor slowly, clutching his clothes tightly to his chest.

He couldn't let it. It couldn't _be_. . .

Anguish tore at his heart – he still had a heart? Unbelievable – and anger bubbled beneath his skin, unwelcome emotions pouring out into him after something as sickeningly innocent and _intimate_ as a kiss. A kiss of meaning. A meaningful kiss. A meaningful kiss from a man that had gained meaning _inside him_ after a few hours of meeting one another.

Cloud squeezed his eyes shut, stopping the tears that threatened to fall. Tears. Tears that had never existed for the past nine years. To fall. Because of this feeling. Because of this stranger. Because of _this_ Squall. No. . . because of this _Leon_.

**_No_**. . .

* * *

"Leave. I don't want to see you here again."

There was a flash of challenge in cold, blue eyes; as though he dared to be resisted.

"I don't answer to you. I will come so long as I wish to," Leon replied evenly, frowning at the blonde man.

There was a pause as those glowing eyes narrowed in irritation.

"Is that so? Then perhaps I should just incapacitate you so that you will not be able to return," he replied coldly, just as seriously. "Leave, and don't come back."

Leon remained silent, eyeing the smaller man. They were back in the coliseum, in the area behind the fighting arena. Torches hung from the walls, flames cracking merrily and casting long shadows along the dusty stone floor. He took a few steps towards Cloud, a hand slipping around his wrist. It was instantly slapped away, the blonde glowering fiercely at him.

"Don't _touch_ me," he hissed angrily.

Leon paused, unsure of what to do. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but he wasn't certain that Cloud would respond if he said it. Not this Cloud. This Cloud didn't laugh or smile. This Cloud didn't take kindly to actions or words that he deemed too personal. This Cloud didn't possess any true warmth that Leon once knew.

Angry blue irises peeked out from behind those overgrown bangs.

"Squall is _dead_ to me."

Leon found himself staring at the man. His lips pressed together to form a thin line as he swallowed his words.

Cloud's voice dripped with poison – emotions that were too raw to be described with mere words. No, he didn't know this Cloud. This Cloud didn't have any real memories. This Cloud didn't want to have anything to do with emotions. This Cloud was acerbic and cold. This Cloud didn't have any love or tenderness – too hardened after nine years away from human touch – to be anyone that Leon recognized even barely. This Cloud was nothing of the epitome of sweetness and care that Leon once knew.

And Leon knew better, because Cloud had never known a Squall who truly smiled.

Cloud didn't know Leon.

And so, he withdrew; walking to his gummi ship without another word.

Words.

For the first time, after they had met, Leon had finally known what to say. He had been about to say it; had been absolutely sure of the emotions that would have reflected the honesty of the promise he was about to make.

But he hadn't.

Still, there were no words.

No words.

No words that were enough to bridge the distance of nine painfully long years.

No words.

No words at all.

* * *

**A/N:** Hallo, Hanae here. I caught a cold sometime towards the end of the smut scene, and I'm still sick as I post this. This is the longest I've ever spent on a fic (about a week) and so, I've decided to be horribbly detailed about it. It's smut-writing practise for me, since I'm not too good at it. Future fics demand quality smut. Anyways, this was, at first, only a one-shot. However, after an insightful nap during my religious studies class(I am so going to hell) I actually came up with a plot. This fic can go on as a one-shot, or as a three-part fic. For now, I will only keep this as a one-shot. Should **_No Words_** be well received enough, I will post the remaining two chapters.

Just to warn you, there is close to no smut in the following would-be chapters. Try not to keep your hopes up.

This fic is, again, for my good friend **Sorceress Fantasia** who helplessly moans and mopes about my lack of 'make-out' scenes. Well, I double-dose it for you with hardcore smut, AND CLOSE TO NO FLUFF AT ALL. Hah. (Disregard that little bit of nostalgia from Leon up there.)

My holidays are HERE. And I'm SICK. Huh, the irony.

I also seem very insecure during the process of writing this fic. I had 3 people preview it for me who happened to be online. In parts, of course. Spoilers are a no-no. Oh, and if you want to hit someone for being lucky enough to preview my stuff, you can do so to **Dysfunctional Space Angel** who is a nocturnal author who _still_ hasn't updated her fics yet.

I hope you would also kindly take the oppurtunity to take up the challenges attached at the end of my fics, **_Emulsion_** and **_Steam_**. My mission to raise the CLC fic count rages on! Come on people! You _know_ you want CLC!

I took a lot of time and effort to write this fic. Flames, critique and whatnot; be kind enough to direct it here.

Review!


	2. Final Notes

**A/N: **Hello everyone. Hanae here, and I'm sure this was not what you're looking for. Hey, it isn't even in my style to post author's notes as a chapter in itself.

In any case, I just wanted to inform you that **_No Words_** does not have any continuing chapters whatsoever. This will be left standing alone on its own, because, though I do love the ideas I have that I initially wanted to include as the final two parts of this story, I also like it the way it is, and I would like to leave all of you with just a bit of wonder. Hence, please do not wait on for an update, for there will be none.

But, in the course that you are frustrated and _still_ want to know what _would_ hypothetically happen if this story had gone on, fear not.

On my profile page, you may find another published fic entitled **_Flame_** which you may or may have not yet read. That fic, though meant to stand on its own as well, was written with _**No Words**_ in mind. So, if you so wish it, it could be considered a sequel to this fic (which is what I personally assume, too).

I know that this leaves a little damper on things, and I have come a long way since this fic, and I would personally like to thank everyone for the support they have shown me.

So, if you are desperate for an update of some sorts, go read **_Flame_**! Let **_No Words_** sleep peacefully. Hopefully, its quality will still remain intact even after years and years since its publication.

Thank you, everyone.

_hanae_


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